Dancing in the Dark
by waterlilylf
Summary: Chapter two. Trowa makes a move on a blond in a nightclub, and gets way, way more than he originally bargained for. Yaoi. 3x4 with a little side of 1x2 and almost complete absence of fluff.
1. Dancing in the Dark

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is the property of Bandi/Sunrise, and '_Dancing in the Dark' _belongs to Mr. Springsteen. If you're not familiar with the song, sentences in italics are direct quoted from the lyrics.

Note; Many thanks, as always to Kaeru Shisho, for helping and especially for providing the most perfect last line ever.

**Dancing in the Dark:**

The club was off Davy Street, in the heart of Vancouver's gay village. Outside, rainbow flags fluttered above over-priced cafés, where cute guys drank the latest designer coffees, and their designer dogs were given bowls of iced water.

The place was new, and fashionable, so there was a queue outside. Waiting wasn't a hardship in the warm Spring evening. There were a couple of buskers, rather good, working the crowd, and plenty of scenery to admire.

Most people were content enough to stand in line. I wasn't; it wasn't a part of the plan. You didn't need to wait if you knew the right people, and were prepared to hand out a little money. A nod to one of the bouncers, a tightly folded banknote, and I was in.

I'd been there before, once or twice, knew which stool at the bar gave the best view of the doors. I ordered a bottle of spring water - Irish - and switched on my 'phone, to find the photograph.

I'd taken it almost a month ago. I'd been looking at it, captivated, far too frequently since.

Stupid.

Very stupid, actually; I hadn't even met the man. Not yet, but that would change tonight.

They arrived after twenty minutes. Sometimes, it is necessary to wait. The blond with the engaging smile was first through the doors, blue eyes sweeping the club as if searching for someone, then standing to wait for his companion.

He was attractive, if you liked blonds. His companion was beyond attractive. The club's strobe lighting painted streaks of colour in the long braid, cast eldritch sparks into his eyes.

They ordered drinks, at the opposite side of the bar from me, and stood sipping them for a few moments. They were approached with invitations to dance, of course, and each offer was rebuffed with laughing refusals. No one seemed to be taking offence; they were presumably a couple.

The tall man with dark auburn hair hanging over one side of his face was more persistent that the others, staying to talk and seemingly charming them both, coaxing the blond on to the dance floor. Before accepting, Blondie glanced at his friend, who nodded and added a rather obscene hand gesture.

The man with the braid finished his drink, watched his friend indulgently and then moved into the throng of dancers himself.

He really was lovely. I'd watched him over the past few weeks, very discreetly. There was no point in worrying the beautiful young man by thinking he had some sort of stalker. The clothes he had on tonight - ink-dark purple suede jeans and a paler, silky shirt - were far better than the tailored suits he usually wore. They were delightfully fitted for one thing.

He was a superb dancer, moving easily to the rhythms of the music. When he felt a hand rest lightly on each hip, he didn't pull away from the contact, just twisted his head to see who was there. Twilight-purple eyes met mine and widened.

I smiled, feeling those hips rotate under my hand. 'No one who looks like you should have to dance alone.'

'What if I want to be alone?' Those lovely eyes sparkled.

'I know of an excellent place where we can be alone,' I offered, deliberately misunderstanding.

'That's kind of forward. Maybe just dancing to start? I'm Duo.'

'Heero.'

'Cool name.' Duo gyrated that lovely body. The beat was faster now, and he spun in my arms like a whirling dervish until I had had enough. I'd been fixating on this man for weeks, this beautiful, teasing man and I wasn't sure how much more I could take. Backing Duo, my gorgeous Duo, slowly into an unlit corner, I caught a glimpse of the blond, wrapped around his tall partner like a rash.

Those violet eyes widened again as Duo felt brickwork against his back; a tiny hint of vulnerability that caught my heart. I didn't want to scare him off; the opposite in fact. I wanted….things that were not possible.

'It's all right,' I crooned, rocking Duo gently against me. The band was taking a break, briefly; I could actually hear myself think. 'I just want to touch you a little. Please.'

The first touch was exquisitely gentle; a brush of my mouth against Duo's throat, light as a feather's whisper. Duo didn't pull away, just moaned a little.

'Is that nice?' I followed it up with soft, soft kisses along the man's jaw line, exploring his ear with deft little flicks of my tongue.

'_God_, Heero.' He threw his head back in a delightful invitation. 'That's so..uh, oh, _God_.'

So beautiful, I thought, running my lips over the thin, sensitive skin at his throat. I'd wondered what he'd feel like to touch, to taste. What sounds he'd make. Not one of my fantasies had come close to the reality of having Duo Maxwell in my arms.

His shirt buttons slipped undone at a touch, revealing more pale, toned skin, begging to be touched. He jerked away when my tongue darted against a nipple; sweetly taut under the silk.

'Sorry. I know, it's far too soon for this.'

He managed a smile, a faint look of relief on his face. Interesting. 'No. I'm sorry. It's just sort of public here, you know? I'm not crazy about having an audience for this sort of thing.'

'Neither am I.' I fastened the shirt for him, wrapping him back up. Removing temptation. 'I normally have better self control than that.'

Duo's forehead creased slightly. 'It's so weird. I keep thinking I know you, like I've seen you somewhere before.'

I just shrugged; I hadn't gone out of my way to hide from him. The opposite, even. He was more likely to relax with me if he felt that I was a part of the local scenery. We'd passed each other in the street a few times; I'd even cooked him dinner, although he hadn't known it. 'You probably have. My apartment is just a few minutes away, so I come here most weekends. I work in the Italian restaurant around the corner.'

It was where I'd first seen him, as a matter of fact. I'd taken the photograph from the upstairs dining room. Duo and his blond friend had been sitting on the terrace, drinking wine, waiting for their food orders to arrive.

'Lucrezia's? I've been there a couple of times; it's really good. That linguine with the seafood sauce is mind-blowing.'

'Thank you.' I smiled a little, liking the idea that I'd blown his mind. 'I'm the head chef. That dish is my speciality.'

'Yeah? It was the best, really! Hey, you want to dance again?'

No. I'd settle for it, though. At least, I had the chance to hold him, to feel that perfect body grinding against mine. He was a bit more adventurous on the dance floor, among other people.

Duo pulled back suddenly, miming taking a drink from a bottle. At least, that was what I thought he was doing. Either that or a superlative blow job.

It was apparently the former, though, since he headed straight for the bar.

'What are you drinking?'

'A still water,' I snaked my arm about that slender waist, and Duo passed my order to the bartender.

'Same for me, but with bubbles.' He handed me my glass, grinning. 'I kind of like to live dangerously, even when it comes to bottled waters.'

'Obviously,' I said dryly, taking a sip of my drink and trying not to fixate on Duo's white throat as he swallowed.

'Hey, I love this song!' He headed back on to the dance floor, me in tow. The music was vaguely familiar; something Trowa played occasionally.

'So, Heero,' Duo yelled, sliding both hands down my body. 'Tell me; is this gun for hire or what?'

'_What_?' I hoped, I really hoped, that Duo would attribute the shock in my voice to the fact that one hand had slid very far down indeed. I hadn't expected he'd be this blatant so early on.

The look on the other man's face was innocence incarnate, despite the fact that he was palming my very definite erection. 'Don't you know the lyrics?' He started to sing along with the band; he was very good. '_This gun's for hire; we're just dancing in the dark_?'

He let me go, found one of my hands, placing it between his own legs. '_Hey there, baby, I could just use a little help_,' he sang; his voice far better than the lead singer's.

'More than a _little_, I think.' I squeezed gently, loving the feel of him. '_You can't start a fire without a spark_, right?'

The song changed to something slower; a couples' song. We didn't really dance; just held each other closely and swayed in time to the music. It felt good.

'_I'm dying for some action_,' Duo whispered into my ear. 'You said you live close by.'

It couldn't be this easy.

Surely.

Then he kissed me, and I didn't care.

'Too far. There's a place on the roof. Come on.'

I dragged him up the fire escape; both of us almost falling a couple of times.

'Wow.' He let go my hand as I pushed open the fire door. 'This is beautiful. I love how everywhere in this city has a view of the water. It's like the whole city was built around the ocean.'

'You're not local then?'

'You know I'm not.' Duo swirled in my arms.

There were a couple of ways to take that. I chose the more innocuous. 'Your accent's not Canadian, no, but this city has a lot of immigrants.'

Duo nodded, apparently accepting this. 'I'm only here for a few weeks. I'd like to come back though.'

'I'd rather like that, too. So, are you here on business or pleasure?'

'Business so far.' He made a face. 'Pleasure right now. Obviously.'

'It is obvious,' I said softly, palming the bulge between his legs. It felt good; pulsating heat and hardness lying underneath that soft fabric. 'Do you still need _a little help_?'

This was another fantasy; sucking him off. Gasps of pleasure as and a quick snap of his hips to gain more depth. Then a soft apology, his hands stirring gently in my hair as he pulled back, letting me control the pace.

He was still lost in the throes of orgasm, eyes shut, when I put the gun to his temple.

'You won't do it.' He was trying so very hard to appear calm; just a muscle jumping in his throat to betray that he wasn't quite that confident.

Well, of course not. 'How can you possibly know that?'

'Two reasons. One. You'd hardly go to the trouble of blowing me like that if you planned to blow my brains out after.' He was very still, just a few stray wisps of hair moving when he breathed out.

'It could be what I do. How I get my kicks.'

'I know perfectly well that it isn't. It's not your style.'

Ah. We were beginning to be open with each other then. An acknowledgement that he knew something about me. Had known it all along.

Perhaps, Trowa had been right. Perhaps there would have been an easier way to do this.

'If you know that much, you must know that I vary my methods. What was the other reason?'

'This.' I never saw him move, never _felt _it, but there was steel at my throat. 'Hard to shoot someone if your head's hanging off.'

Interesting. Very. I'd done my own research, I'd known about his skills with a knife. I didn't know where he'd had it hidden. Of course, he could probably hide an arsenal in all that hair.

'Checkmate. Duo, put the knife down. You haven't a hope.'

Then the door opened, which was part of the plan. A little late, actually; Trowa had obviously been giving me quality time alone with Duo. The man who stepped on to the roof, however, was Quatre Winner. That wasn't any part of the plan.

'This has gone far enough!' He snapped it, training the pistol in his hand at me. He was supposed to be good. Granted, I hadn't thought much of how he'd conducted himself so far tonight, but I supposed he'd been obeying very direct orders from his employer not to interfere.

'Aw, Quat,' Duo whined. 'We were just getting to the good stuff. You're such a spoilsport.' Nevertheless, he had his clothing pulled into place before he'd finished complaining.

'Where is he?' I demanded. The plan, it appeared, was going to need a little modification. The blond was better than we'd thought. Our fault; we shouldn't have underestimated him. The question was, of course, how badly we had.

I should never have involved Trowa.

I repeated the question again, more loudly this time and Winner granted me one of those winning smiles.

'He's fine. Safe. He'll have a thumping headache in the morning though.'

'No before-breakfast sex for you then, Quat,' Duo commented idly, shoving my gun aside with one hand and standing up. The blond, surprisingly, blushed. 'Heero, whatever you're being paid, I'll double it. Not to kill me, obviously. But I need a bodyguard.'

'You have him.' I jerked my head at Quatre.

'He needs a day off occasionally.'

'I've already accepted the contract. I can't go back on that.'

'What can an assassin know of honour?' It was a new voice, familiar from somewhere, and one of the shadows from the wall fluidly detached itself and moved towards us.

Not just the voice was familiar; I knew him. He was Chinese, dressed all in black, just like me. Lamplight glinted off the blade in his hand.

He was the man who'd taken out the contract on Duo Maxwell. Not that we'd ever met, or he'd let me know his identity; he'd been terribly careful about that. Just not quite as good as I was.

I hadn't realised he'd want to witness this in person. Enough had gone wrong tonight that I couldn't be quite sure what was happening any more. Just in case, I thrust Duo, protesting loudly, behind me.

'If you're here to kill me,' he piped up, 'how come you're trying so hard to protect me?'

'Perhaps because I want to kill you myself?' I gibed, but it lacked heat. He knew perfectly well I wouldn't. 'Simple economics. This man is the one who wants you dead. If I don't do it in person, I may not get paid the full amount.'

'Uh, yeah. 'Bout that.' Duo's expression didn't seem sure whether to go for smug or sheepish. 'The thing is, Heero, Wufei works for me. You might say this is all a bit of a set up, really.'

'Why?' He looked surprised at the question; at the fact that my face remained utterly impasive.

'Like I said, I need a bodyguard. I've heard about you, that you're the best, but you're damned hard to contact. The only way we could figure out was to employ you to kill me. With certain specifications, obviously. I didn't want you picking me off one morning while I was having breakfast or something. 'Fei told you I'd be here this evening, and left the rest to you, right?'

'You played out this whole rigmarole, why exactly? I could have decided to go against orders and kill you downstairs, the minute I saw you.'

'You could.' He shrugged. 'I'm not that easy to kill, though. And 'Fei was downstairs keeping an eye on me. I'm sorry, Heero. I need people I know I can trust; who can't be bought so easily.'

'Assassins are always for sale, Duo. It's the nature of the beast. '

He flicked his braid back over his shoulder, gesturing to Quatre to put away the gun. 'You refused to back out of a contract when I offered you money. I always find poachers make the best gamekeepers.'

'It was a stupid test. If I'd accepted, you could have had me killed anyway. Why did you think I'd be remotely interested in working for you? I don't guard people; I'm the reason why people employ guards.'

Duo nodded. 'I didn't know if you would be interested. You're still here, so I guess you must be. Wufei picked up a rumour somewhere that maybe you might be interested in going straight. You know a guy called Zechs, don't you?'

I nodded, trying not to smile. I'd planted that particular rumour, of course, very carefully. I did owe Zechs a favour for helping. 'You do realise he's also in the market? And he's good.'

'I want the best,' Duo told me softly. 'Besides, he'd only distract Wufei. If you agree, you can name your own price.' He smiled, surprisingly; that glowing smile that held a warmth of its own.. It was what decided me; that smile and the comment that followed. 'I'd sort of prefer you not to go straight, though, if you get my drift.'

The door opened a second time; this time the right man walked through.

'I'd advise you to accept his offer,' Trowa Barton said calmly, 'I'd check his dental plan first though.'

'Health insurance is important,' I agreed blandly. 'You're late, Barton. You must be losing your edge, letting yourself be duped by a cute blond.'

My friend laughed, glancing over at Quatre, who was engaged in a comprehensive study of his shoes. 'Blondes like him should be illegal. And he was having so much fun, Heero, I couldn't disappoint him. It wouldn't have been polite. Besides, you know how much I like being restrained by the cute blond ones.'

'How did you escape?' Quatre demanded suddenly. He was very red, more angry than embarrassed, I thought. Another one who didn't like having his plans messed with.

Trowa winked, holding out his hand. 'I'll tell you later. Over breakfast. Now, come on. We have some unfinished business to take care of.'

Quatre looked like he was about to object, and gave up when Trowa gave him what looked like a very thorough kiss.

The rest of us just watched-- killer voyeurs—until my partner let his cute blond up for air. 'Good evening, gentlemen,' He finally deigned to acknowledge his audience. 'Mr. Maxwell, before I accept your job offer, I'll need to see a comprehensive offer of terms of employment. You may send it to Quatre's apartment in the morning. Not too early, please.' He inclined his head politely. 'I look forward very much to working with you.'

Duo gaped after them like a goldfish with amnesia. 'Is he always so…so…like that? I never offered him any job! I don't even know him.'

I nodded. 'I'd hire him if I were you. He's very good, and I work well with him. If nothing else, he'll keep Quatre occupied on his days off. And you will need someone to replace Rashid when he leaves your service, won't you?'

'You _knew_!' Duo spluttered. 'You knew what we were doing all along and you went along with it. Why? And how the hell did you find out? Wufei, what the _fuck _is going on?'

Wufei darkened; dishonored by his inability to be omniscient.

'It was fun. I wanted to meet you in person before I made any decisions. And I couldn't possibly have disappointed you when you'd gone to so much trouble to arrange all of this. Don't blame Wufei or Quatre. They'll be very good indeed when we've had a little more time to train them.'

'You could have _told _me you knew!' There was a definite pout settling on that pretty mouth. Wufei glared at me. Hmm. There could be a few problems to iron out in that working relationship.

'You're really cute when you're mad. Very sexy. Have you ever been told that?'

His face flamed; Wufei was dismissed with the wave of one imperious hand. He didn't look too happy about it.

'_If _I decide to work for you, it'll be on my terms. I name my own salary; my own colleagues. I won't work with anyone whom I can't trust. I'm not good at taking orders. From anyone.' I gave him a little smile. 'I do make allowances for hot guys who are naked in my bed, on occasion. Where your safety is concerned, I will have full authority and you will do precisely as I tell you.'

Duo snorted. 'You don't exactly sound like a model employee, if you don't mind me saying so. I'm beginning to question my reasoning. Why exactly I should hire you?'

'You want me.' That was true, in more than one way. 'You went to a great deal of trouble to get me here, because I am very, very good at what I do. I can keep you alive. I also happen to be a gourmet chef and I can provide a number of other services, upon request.'

'Those …other services,' he took a deep breath. 'Will they be part of our contract?'

'You will employ me as a security professional, and pay accordingly. Anything of a more private nature will be separate, between two private individuals, and will have no bearing on my professional conduct. They're my terms, Duo. How long do you need to think about them?'

'One more question. When you're off-duty, could I maybe persuade you to cook for me sometimes? '_Cause I'm just about starving' tonight_.'

I nodded, throat suddenly dry. 'That would be acceptable, yes.'

It was an unorthodox job interview; only fitting that we accepted each other's terms in a way that wasn't verbal.

We'd work out the details in the morning. Tonight, we were dancing in the dark.


	2. When You Came In, the Air Went Out

Disclaimer: the Gundam Wing universe belongs to Bandai-Sunrise, and the song 'Bad Things' is sung, and presumably owned, by Mr. Jace Everett.

Note I: Ahem. This is further evidence of my inability to write one-shots, and is a direct result of my watching Season 3 of 'Trueblood' over two days and getting the theme song stuck in my head.

Note II: This is for Maskelle, as proof that pleading always pays off, even if it takes a very long time. Many thanks to KS and Wolfje for all your help on this one, especially the hilarious comments. I'm sorry Quatre didn't get to have the James Bond car!

**When You Came in, the Air went Out:**

I'd been to the club a fair few times before; often enough that I knew the wine list, and the barmen knew what I liked. I caught a dirty look from Heero as I took my first sip of a nice New Zealand Pinot Grigio.

Too bad; I was only here as a favour to him.

Drinking wine and flirting with Carlos and Scott behind the bar were convenient ways to blend in. Unlike my friend who was drinking Ballygowan and maintaining a perimeter of personal space the size of Tuscany. He didn't stick out so much like a sore thumb as one that had been blown away by an automatic weapon.

There was a reason why I generally did the infiltration work. What Heero Yuy knew about blending in could have fit on a postage stamp. A small one.

Maxwell wasn't first through the door. Of course not. He hadn't survived this long by being stupid.

We'd guessed it would be the blond with him. The other guards, those middle-aged Middle Eastern men, and the girl with spiky hair, would stick out a mile in a club that catered to young, gay men.

It had to be Winner.

We had a dossier on him. He was twenty four, Maxwell's age. The only son of the Winner family; the son of his father's old age. The heir. Except when this golden child, born to every privilege under the sun, had reached sixteen, his father had died, and the little prince had gone off the rails rather spectacularly.

He'd been disowned by the rest of his family, although they hadn't been able to divest him of his obscenely large trust fund.

I knew about his phenomenal IQ; the mole on his left thigh; the knife scar on his back that he'd got in a fight. I knew what Maxwell had done to the guy who'd done that.

He liked health food and herbal teas, played several musical instruments and had a box at the Milan Opera House.

There were photographs in the file.

I'd fucking _known_ what he looked like.

My lungs still felt like all the air had been sucked out of them, like someone had taken a hold of my windpipe and squeezed. Hard. Or maybe just sucked all the air out of space so no one in the universe could breathe.

No one else in the club, though, seemed to be having that problem. It was just me.

And that gaze, the essence of pure, shining blue had ghosted over me for one second as he looked around the bar.

Just one second, and the heat of it was burned on my soul.

By the time I worked my way to the other side of the bar he and Maxwell were already halfway through their first drinks. They'd been in the club maybe ten minutes; I'd already watched them both turn down offers to dance. Offers to do other things as well, probably.

They were both utterly fucking gorgeous, but the blond was mine. That was the plan.

He turned down my first invitation to dance, with a little flick of those eyes to Maxwell. Seeking permission or approval?

'Quat, go ahead.' Maxwell was grinning. 'Not every day that one of us gets chatted up by someone like him.'

Quat.

Cat. Oh, that fit. He was every bit as graceful and finicky as a highly-bred Siamese, carefully picking his way through the writhing bodies on the dance floor, deftly avoiding spilt puddles of drink on the floor or hands that reached out to touch him.

'Cat?' I lifted a brow at him. Such a pretty thing in his nicely fitting cream pants and a silky tunic-style shirt in swirling blues and greens.

'Quatre, really. And you?'

'Trowa.'

He spun in my arms, silk billowing. So beautiful. I could see the tattoo when the shirt slipped off his left shoulder. Arabic letters in black, stark against pale skin.

'Nice tat. What it's mean?'

He shrugged, sliding the shirt back into place. 'Nothing special. I just liked the design.'

That was a lie. The characters meant _Revenge. _I knew there was another one on his right forearm. A red rosebud and the name _Iria_. His eldest sister; she'd been with his father the day they'd both died.

It wasn't as if I hadn't known what he looked like.

The Springsteen number finished, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Heero leading Maxwell up the fire escape to the roof. Part one of the plan had worked then. I caught Quatre looking after them too, not seeming unduly perturbed. Interesting. Then the band switched to something different, vaguely familiar from somewhere.

'_When you came in, the air went out, and every shadow filled up with doubt.' _

'Oh, I like this song,' Quatre said enthusiastically.

'I like the lyrics,' I agreed, suddenly realising that the words, in this situation, were damn scary. I was there as back-up, in case something went wrong. That was _all_. A distraction for Winner, to give Heero a few minutes with Maxwell.

Nothing had been said about shadows or doubts or blonds with air-stealing powers.

'_I don't know who you think you are, but I know this much is true, I wanna do bad things with you..'_

'Really? These words?' There was an impish little grin flirting along his lips.

'Oh, yeah.'

Oh _yeah_.

I wanted to take Quatre Raberba Winner somewhere very, very private, and find out all manner of things that weren't in any dossier.

He twirled again, looking like the softest butter in the world wouldn't melt in his mouth. 'What a shame there's such a limited number of things one can do in public.'

'There are a couple of rooms on the next floor. For privileged customers.'

'_I don't know what you've done to me but I know this much is true, I wanna do bad things to you.'_

Couldn't have said it better myself.

'And are you a privileged customer, Trowa?' The little brat slid both arms around my waist, pressing close for just long enough to feel how privileged we could both be.

'I think that's up to you to decide.'

Oh, shit.

I was a professional, for God's sake. I wasn't the sort to abandon a job, and a friend, just because some pretty blond batted his insanely long lashes at me.

And sucked the air out of my body with one glance.

But…Heero had looked like he had things well in command, leading his lovely Duo up the fire escape that led to the roof. He wouldn't exactly thank me for interrupting. I'd be keeping Quatre out of the way, and that made sense. Besides, I wasn't exactly sure exactly what the blond did or didn't know.

Of course, it was very flattering to think that maybe he'd just taken a fancy to my green eyes, and decided to play hooky on the spur of the moment. Flattering but probably false. He couldn't _know_ me; no one did. I'd studiously ignored Heero at the bar, but he'd been shooting me killer glares for daring to drink on the job, for bantering with the servers and a couple of guys waiting for their drinks. Only an imbecile would have missed it.

I didn't think, somehow, that Quatre was stupid.

Carlos, behind the bar, flicked me a set of keys and a thumbs up sign.

The room was nice enough in a minimalist-brothel style. Bronze silk bed-linen, dark furniture, an array of lube and condoms on the dresser.

I shut the door behind us, looking at Quatre, guessing he was the sort who'd want to have the illusion of control. 'What now, gorgeous?'

'On the bed,' he commanded, and then spoilt the Dom act by adding, 'please.' Nice manners too. He really did have everything going for him.

He could kiss like an angel who'd been sneaking off to trysts with demons instead of practising his harp. Sweet.

Someone had taught him well too; he had my hands cuffed to the headboard while his tongue was still midway down my throat. Pretty smooth. Of course, I'd seen it coming but it just wouldn't have been polite to say so.

You've got to love a cute blond who carries bondage gear in his back pocket.

'Mmm. You like the kinky stuff, hey?' I grinned up at him. 'That's not a problem. You could have just asked.'

Quatre laughed. 'Don't you like surprises? I think they make life much more fun.' He gave me another kiss, just a sweet touch of his mouth against mine. 'I'm sorry. I have to do something. I'll be back as soon as I can.'

I flexed my arms, checking how much room he'd left me to manoeuvre, not particularly worried. Amateurs never do this sort of thing properly. 'What? You can't run out on me like this.'

'I'm _sorry_.' He sounded like he actually meant it. 'I won't be long.'

'Don't I even get a good bye kiss?'

I did, with bells on. Very nice. More than worth the couple of minutes it took to get free.

I pushed open the fire escape door to the roof and walked into an impromptu job interview. Maxwell was glowing at Heero; a smile that could have lit up the whole of British Columbia and maybe Seattle as well. Things were obviously going well.

'I'd advise you to accept his offer,' I said calmly, 'I'd check his dental plan first, though.' I meant it. Heero grinds his teeth in his sleep; the retainers he's supposed to wear at night have to be custom-made and cost a fortune.

Heero made some crack about me losing my edge, letting a cute blond get one over on me. If only. It wasn't like _he_ could talk anyway. Whatever he'd been doing with Maxwell had left them both flushed, and Maxwell's clothes pulled together haphazardly.

I grinned over at Quatre, also a rather fetching shade of scarlet, although hopefully for a different reason. Heero Yuy may be the closest thing I have to a brother, but that didn't mean I was going to share.

'How did you escape?' he blurted. Ah. The red wasn't embarrassment at all. He was furious.

'I'll tell you later.' I dropped him a very deliberate wink. 'Now, come on. We have some unfinished business to take care of, remember?' I cut off any potential objections with a very comprehensive kiss, waiting until he was starting to go limp to let him up for air. In the process, I'd totally forgotten that we had an audience. Oh, well. This was as good a time as any.

'Mr. Maxwell, before I accept your job offer, I'll need to see a comprehensive offer of terms of employment. You may send it to Quatre's apartment in the morning. Not too early, please. I look forward very much to working with you.'

OK, that probably surprised them as much as it did me. I'd gone there as a favour to a friend. Nothing more. I certainly hadn't planned on changing my whole life just because of a blond guy with the ability to steal my soul along with all the breath in my body.

I held the door politely for Quatre, who totally ignored me, flouncing down the staircase. He was in the perfect flouncing-outfit too; flowing silk to swirl around his poker-straight spine and tight pants sheathing his long legs.

He spun around when we walked outside.

'Stop following me!'

'You want to know who I am, don't you? I'm this totally unknown factor in your equation. You know, you might be better off to take me home where you can keep an eye on me and make sure I don't get into any more mischief.'

He snorted, halting at a very nice vintage Austin MG and reaching into his pocket.

'Oops.' I met his glare with a look of bland innocence, twirling the car keys in one hand. 'Look what fell out of your pocket.' While he was still gaping at me, I opened the door and slid into the driver's seat. He didn't look happy.

'Get out of my car!'

'But I like being in your car.'

'I have a gun.'

'I bet you do. But you wouldn't want to shoot Duo's newest employee, would you?'

He elevated his dainty nose an inch or so. 'You seem to be presuming rather a lot. I don't recall Duo accepting your offer.'

'I'm sure Heero will talk him 'round.' I leaned over and opened the passenger door for him. 'You really should get in, Quatre. You look like you're kerb-crawling me and while I don't object, I imagine you wouldn't want to get picked up by the police.'

More flouncing as he got in. Lovely. He slammed the passenger door shut far harder than his poor car deserved.

'What's your name?'

'I've told you.'

'Your surname.' He gave me a glare that would have made Heero look like Pickwick in comparison.

_Ouch_.

'Barton.' I said meekly.

'Barton.' He produced a knacky little electronic gizmo and started tapping away. God, it was a wonder the guy could walk, let alone dance, given all the hardware he had stashed in his pockets. 'How do you spell your first name?'

'T.R.O.W.A.' I leaned back against the seat. Real leather, naturally. Nothing but the best for this one. I wondered if the seats reclined. He'd probably shoot me if I asked.

'Then you don't exist.' He lifted his head for another glare. Meant, presumably, to be all intimidating but only achieving sexy.

Well, I wouldn't complain about that. 'I think I do. You can pinch me if you like, just to check. Or do other stuff.'

'Your name doesn't exist in any database.'

'Fancy that. It's just a name, Quatre. _I'm_ real.'

His hands dived into a back pocket. A mobile phone this time. He hit a couple of numbers impatiently,

'Wufei? It's Quat. Yes, I'm fine. No, it's all right. I've got it under control. You keep an eye on Duo. I don't trust him alone with Yuy yet. Yes, I'll call you. Good night.'

OK, that was good; keep Chang out of the picture. Not that I was worried about him, as such, but if I had to hurt one hair on his head, I'd spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder for Zechs Merquise.

'Your boss doesn't seem to think I'm a threat,' I tried to look as harmless as possible; the cute blond still looked like he wanted to murder me.

'He's not my boss. And we don't know anything about you.'

'Not yet,' I agreed. 'I was hoping we could work on changing that tonight, Quat.'

'Only my friends call me that,' he grated. 'And you're hardly a friend.'

I just grinned at his tone. 'I don't want to be your _friend_, gorgeous. Tell me, what do your lovers call you?'

'I hardly think you need to know that,' he informed me, very sniffily indeed. 'But for the record, I prefer to call _them_ by their real names. I'm odd like that.'

'Names don't mean anything. They're just letters. Trowa's as real as any. What's important is that I'm on your side and I'm going to keep you safe.'

'Oh, please!' He rolled those gorgeous eyes, a kaleidoscope of swirling aquamarine. Ooof. That was the air siphoned out of my lungs again. I was going to have to invest in an oxygen mask at this rate. 'I'm more than capable of taking care of myself.'

'No, you're not. The only reason you and Duo are alive right now is because you've been damned extraordinarily lucky. That and the fact that Khushrenada's been concentrating on L5 for the last year. That's the truth.' I said it flatly and he finally dropped his gaze. OK, I could breathe again.

'What do you know?'

'Your father and sister were taken out because they were opposing what Romfeller was doing on L4. You've always known that, but you could never build up any sort of a case because people are too scared to help you. Yes?'

He gave me a curt little nod.

'You met Duo Maxwell three years ago. Another person with an axe to grind, and who wasn't afraid to take risks. I hear he's got proof that Romfeller was involved in the plague on L2. Testing out some new biochemical weapon, right?'

'How can you know any of that?'

'You're not the only ones who want to take Romfeller down. And you need help from people who actually know what they're doing.'

'Duo and I …' he started, blustering.

'Duo and you are damn lucky you're both still alive. You're treating this like some gung-ho adventure story. This little stunt you pulled tonight was insane. Heero could have gunned you both down outside the club if he'd wanted, and lived in luxury for the rest of his life on what Khushrenada would have paid him.'

'We did it because you're right about us needing someone who's …a professional,' he said heatedly. 'We needed to find a way to meet him.'

'That's bullshit.' Those blue eyes widened and I choked back a laugh. He carried guns and cuffs and a computer that looked like NASA had designed it, and he could be caught off guard by a curse. 'Zechs could have arranged a meeting if you'd asked. Instead, you set up this crazy scenario in a place you didn't know, where you hadn't done any reconnaissance, and you didn't even have any contingency plans.'

'At least we're trying!' Quatre was suddenly seventy shades of scarlet. 'Not like the rest of the universe who's pretending a problem will go away if you ignore it for long enough. And if we're so incompetent, why do you even want to help us?'

I flicked one finger against his burning cheek, wondering idly how far the blush extended. 'Like I said, you're not the only one who wants to take Romfeller down. And like you said, you're trying. It makes sense for us to join forces. Besides, I hear the money's good.'

'You're just a common mercenary!'

'Mercenary, yes,' I agreed peaceably. 'A rather uncommon one, though. I know you've got money, but it doesn't even compare to what Treize Khushrenada has in his petty cash account.' I grinned at him, floundering to find an answer to that. I got the impression Quatre Winner wasn't lost for words very often, and wasn't enjoying the sensation very much. 'C'mon, Quat. You're stuck with me, like it or not. I've already told Maxwell I'm on board.'

He sniffed. 'Since you know so much about us, I'm sure you know that I'm the one with the funds. Not Duo.'

'I do know that, yes. Which means I have to work at convincing you. Which should be fun.'

He didn't exactly pout at that, but his very kissable, edible bottom lip stuck out slightly. How the hell was I supposed to keep my hands off him when he did that? Or any other bodily parts? 'You seem to be taking rather a lot for granted, Mr. Barton.'

God, he really was perfect. Smart and passionate and stubborn and the sexiest guy I'd seen in forever.

'Quatre.' I said it gently enough that he swivelled to look at me. 'You can trust me. We shouldn't be fighting. Here; take this. I surrender, OK?' I slid my Glock out of the shoulder holster and handed it to him. 'We can help you, Heero and I. Two of us; that's better than one, surely?'

'Perhaps. For some things.'

He didn't bother to resist when I slid my arms around him, just melted into the embrace. Into the kiss. It's definitely one of those things that two do better than one; kissing. Lost in the temptation of his soft, sweet mouth, it took a moment to realise that the hard length digging into my thigh wasn't proof of desire on his part.

'You _are_ into the kinky stuff, aren't you?' I murmured, forcing myself to keep my eyes on his, and not where he had my own gun pressed against a very cherished part of my anatomy. 'What's next, whips and chains?'

'If you're lucky, Triton.' He gave me a beatific smile, lovely as any Botticelli angel. So lovely it took me a moment to realise what he'd said.

'_What_ did you just call me?' I'd misheard. I had to have misheard. Having all that breath suctioned out of my body in the last hour had obviously affected my brain cells.

'You heard me.' The barrel of the gun nudged against me slightly. His smile was suddenly sweet as poisoned wine. 'It's your real name, isn't it? Triton Bloom? From L3? Why are you looking like that? Names are only letters. That's what you just told me.'

Fuck this.

Sure, he was smart and had a gun but I was stronger and bigger and had spent my life doing this. Pinning him down was still more of a challenge than I'd expected, mainly because I was hampered by not really wanting to hurt him. And a raging hard-on.

'How the _hell_ do you know that? And if you knew, why bother with all the questions?'

'I may be a mere _amateur_, Mr. Barton, but I happen to be an exceptionally gifted one,' he snapped. The aggression was all in his voice though; he was lying quiescent beneath me, pupils nicely dilated and breath coming out in little pants. Not quite the big bad Dom he'd been pretending to be earlier.

God, if he got any more perfect, I'd need to get a license for him.

'We've known about you for a while; you work with Heero. It was logical he'd have you with him tonight. As for the questions, I wanted to see what you'd say. I've learned not to trust people. Duo and I both have.'

'How the fuck did you find any of that out?' This was wrong. This was all bloody wrong. He wasn't supposed to know any of that. The person with that name didn't exist any more, not since I was fifteen years old. _I_ didn't damn exist.

'Your friend Heero isn't the only one who has a gift for computers. It's virtually impossible to erase _everything_.' His teeth sank into the full softness of his bottom lip. Oh, I wanted to do that.

'So what's all this about exactly?' I demanded, past every warning siren screaming in my brain to get out. I should walk away. I should kill him, for the things he knew. 'Did I pass your little lie detector test?'

'You didn't lie,' he said simply and just looked at me.

He didn't need guns or handcuffs or any of the other gizmos that he probably had hidden up his ass. He just needed to look at me.

'You didn't actually tell me very much, but you didn't lie to me,' he said again. 'That means….rather a lot, Trowa.'

Not the other name. Well, no. He knew everything, didn't he? Somehow.

'I'm sorry,' he murmured, and I flinched at the ache in his eyes. Hell, he knew all right. 'Truly.' He reached up one hand and placed the palm over my heart. 'I'm truly sorry for what happened to you, and I'm sorry for not being honest with you tonight. I needed to be alone with you for a few moments to see if I could really trust you. I imagine you know why?'

'It's real then, the empathy?' I'd half-dismissed it as rumour.

'Oh, yes. Sometimes, at least. It doesn't work with everyone.'

His hand was still on my chest. 'What's it telling you?'

'To trust you.'

'I already told you that you could.'

'I know.' It was just a breath.

I slid one hand behind his head, cradling it gently, and then raising him up to meet my lips.

'Told you.' I didn't let him go, just moved back an inch or so. 'Two's better than one for some stuff.'

'It's hard to kiss oneself,' he agreed, quite politely, considering a second earlier his tongue had been trying to get deep enough inside my throat that it could poke out through my navel.

'What happens now?'

He arched his hips slightly, just enough to push against me, and all the blood and air in my body suddenly whooshed to the one place. 'Come home with me. Please. You've already told Duo to send someone around late tomorrow morning. That might give us enough time.'

'Enough time for what exactly?' Hell, I'd already jumped on the rollercoaster, and still hadn't figured out whether we were going up or down. I might as well enjoy the ride for now. 'You've turned my whole life inside out in the last hour, you do know that?'

He wrapped both arms around me. 'Yes, I do know that. It's the same for me, in case you hadn't realised.' He gave me a quick kiss, and then handed me my gun. 'Here. I'm sorry. I surrender.'

Sweet. Of course, there was a definite glint in his eye that suggested any surrender would be a temporary thing, but that was OK. He might like a little domination now and again, but he wasn't really the submissive type.

I gently eased him into the passenger seat, with just enough groping on the way to make sure his eyes glazed over.

Oh, fuck.

I'd agreed to do a friend a favour. A couple of hours out of my life on a night when I'd had nothing else planned. I hadn't bargained for a blond with super powers.

I've always been good at improvising though.

And two are better than one.


End file.
